


Perfectly Fake

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexual Sherlock, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Sherlock, Jealous John, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Pining John, Pining Sherlock, Protective John, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes and Drug Use, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Teenlock, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-16 20:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14172708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: WORK ABANDONED (sorry)It never lasted long, the foster “families”. That was, of course, when they survived the interviews. Ms  Chan often recommended- more or less yelled- that he either stay quiet and only answer the bare minimal. No being smart or showing off, no deducing, just be “normal”. He never liked any of the families, so why bother to try and be picked by them? Soon enough, he would age out of the system. Why spend three years with a family only to leave again anyways? Once past the age of ten, it was basically pointless and impossible to get picked after all. The couples who did choose a teenager were looking for the perfect child, no matter what they said.  So, he gave up on trying. Then again, he didn't really want another family anyways.“Come on now, the Watsons are here to see you,”________________________[Forewarning, my information may not all be accurate]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> STORY COVER:  
> https://cangrassdraw7103.tumblr.com/post/172418290558/%F0%9D%93%9F%F0%9D%93%AE%F0%9D%93%BB%F0%9D%93%AF%F0%9D%93%AE%F0%9D%93%AC%F0%9D%93%BD%F0%9D%93%B5%F0%9D%94%82-%F0%9D%93%95%F0%9D%93%AA%F0%9D%93%B4%F0%9D%93%AE-%C9%AA%E1%B4%9B-%C9%B4%E1%B4%87%E1%B4%A0%E1%B4%87%CA%80-%CA%9F%E1%B4%80%EA%9C%B1%E1%B4%9B%E1%B4%87%E1%B4%85-%CA%9F%E1%B4%8F%C9%B4%C9%A2-%E1%B4%9B%CA%9C%E1%B4%87-%EA%9C%B0%E1%B4%8F%EA%9C%B1%E1%B4%9B%E1%B4%87%CA%80

It never lasted long, the foster “families”. That was, of course, when they survived the interviews. Ms Chan often recommended- more or less yelled- that he either stay quiet and only answer the bare minimal. No being smart or showing off, no deducing, just be “normal”. He never liked any of the families, so why bother to try and be picked by them? Soon enough, he would age out of the system. Why spend three years with a family only to leave again anyways? Once past the age of ten, it was basically pointless and impossible to get picked after all. The couples who did choose a teenager were looking for the perfect child, no matter what they said. So, he gave up on trying. Then again, he didn't really want another family anyways. 

“Come on now, the Watsons are here to see you,” Ms Chen entered the room, speaking in an rather annoyed tone but with hope in her eyes. After he didn't move from his seat at the uncomfortable desk for a moment, the middle aged woman returned and ushered him the come forward again, “Hurry up!” With an aggravated sigh, the brunette stood up and walked down the hall. At the end of the hall, there was a heavy wooden door with one small window peering into it, behind the door being the interview room. It was just a small table and a couple of chairs, but it gave off a very interrogation like vibe. Then again, was there much of a difference?

For the third time that month, he walked into the room with zero expectations for anything to happen afterwards. There was only one person sitting in there, a woman with long blonde hair tied back in a braid. She looked somewhat worried, though that expression changing to a form of happy when she heard the door open. “Oh, you must be William!” Mrs Watson smiled. “It’s Sherlock,” Sherlock replied as he sat down in the small chair. It was a child’s chair, not quite made for anyone older than eight. The woman looked down at the yellow file on the table, brows having furrowed for a moment before finding the source of the nickname. Or, well, middle name.

/42 years old. Mother of two- Both adolescent, one going off to university soon. Married for twenty years, unhappily. Divorce in process, but not finalized. Signs of abuse, verbal more than physical. Husband alcoholic, she doesn't drink however./

“Right, well then,” Mrs Watson smiled. “Sorry if you were under the impression that my husband would be here, he’s-” “Not going to be around,” Sherlock interrupted. “You two seem to be in the process of a divorce, you being the one to file it against him. He was a drinker, and when drunk, would be verbally abusive towards your children and you.” The woman was at a lost for words, mouth slightly a gapped. “How did you.. Who told you that?” Before the teen was able to say anything, Ms Chan- who must’ve been listening in- walked into the room, shooting Sherlock an annoyed look and Mrs Watson an apologetic one. “Oh dear, I’m sorry Mrs Watson. I’ve told him countless times now about being rude like that, but the boy never listens!” “N-No, no don’t be sorry, it’s fine,” The other woman said in a softer tone, causing Ms Chen- and Sherlock for that matter- to grow confused. Though, Sherlock didn’t show his surprise as she did.

Either way, he was ushered out of the room quickly by the red-headed woman as the door closed behind her. The two women could faintly be heard talking from behind it as Sherlock sighed, returning back to the dormitories. Her reaction definitely was an unusual one, maybe not at first. No matter, it wasn’t as though anything besides another scolding would come from this.

___

A few days had passed since his talk with Mrs Watson, so it was fair enough to assume that nothing would happen there. However, the great Sherlock Holmes wasn’t quite right about everything. Without a forewarning knock, Ms Chan entered the room once again. This time, her body language projected disbelief along with aggravation. “Start packing your things, you’re leaving in an hour. I’m not sure how you did it, but for some reason, they decided to take you in.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was delayed a few days, got busy and then decided to finish up the chapter in one of my classes in one of my classes,,, so yeah I'm a mess right now-

It didn't take Sherlock any more than ten minutes to gather all his thing into the tattered blue duffle bag, but disposing of all the hazardous substances he kept hidden took an extra eight minutes. The brunette put a few other things into a hollowed out book which was placed at the bottom of his bag. No need for anyone to see that, even if he would be back in this room by the end of the month. Better safe than sorry, after all. There wasn't much to call his own, and Sherlock could've done this all in half the time if he hadn't been put off by surprise. It had been, what, a year now since he went to live with anyone? Since that last experience, he had been purposely sabotaging the interviews and hadn't been expecting ever to go into another house. 

At the time the hour came up, Ms Chan had him climb into the back of her old blue Toyota and drove off to the address Mrs Watson had given her over the phone. Sherlock would’ve much rather have walked or some other alternative that made it so he wouldn’t have to get in a car, but his negotiations were fruitless up against the crabby woman. It was quite the bit away from the "home", forty five minutes with traffic, but it felt far longer than that to Sherlock. The car had barley come to a stop when the teen scrambled out, the car immediately driving off. Though, not before Ms Chan warned him "not to screw this one up". Once her car was out of sight, Sherlock glanced back and forth along the street. He could run now, and easily so. Skip waiting the three years, start now. He knew what to do and how to do it, after all, why not? 

His piercing blue eyes were still fixated on some unknown point down the street when a voice interrupted his train of thought. "You gonna come in?" Asked a blonde standing outside of the small house’s door. “Sherlock, right? Not sure what’s so interesting over there, but I think mum’s waiting for you inside.” The other teen, who couldn't be more than a year older than him, made his way down the steps and towards him. Sherlock remained relatively quiet, looking the other up and down briefly and doing the same as he did upon the sight of what could logically assume to be his mother.

/Same blonde hair and certain facial structures as the woman, her son. Adolescent, sixteen. Athletic form, most likely a rugby player- recent shoulder injury from said sport, a dislocation, and has only just recently completed the healing process. Slight misalignment from improper bandaging, future minor chiropractic problems. Older sibling, a brother named “Harry”- no no, already know this./

"Right, of course," Sherlock replied after a delayed moment, resituating the duffle bag on his shoulder. "Great," The other smiled before starting off back towards the house. "I'm John, by the way." John? Hm, simple but fitting. "Pleasure," As they made their way inside, Sherlock continued to make glances along John's form, intrigued. The closer he looked, the more he saw. This lad definitely wasn't quite as ordinary as he originally saw, a pleasant surprise. Along with that, John seemed relatively standable (and even a bit attractive-). Too bad he wouldn't be around all that long; Sherlock was sure that by nightfall, either John or Harry would complain extensively about him and Mrs Watson would begin at least contemplating sending him back. That had been the pattern, after all, and there was no reason for it to break here.

John lead him into the kitchen once they were inside. It was just through what seemed like a living room and across from a dining room. There was a hallway headed away from the kitchen and a staircase in the living room, both most likely leading to bedrooms. There was a closet looking door right by the front door that may have lead down to a basement, which judging by the rest of the house's appearance, would be unfinished. No attic, or at least used one. They weren't poor, no, still middle class but only barely making the income cut for that classification. Whether the leaving of one of them will affect this financial state or not remains to be figured out, but it's obvious that Mrs Watson was the one doing most of the work even beforehand. The stench of liquor on the carpet suggested that if her husband did work, his past time at home was sitting in the Lazy Boy chair and drinking booze. 

“Mum’s just this way now,” John commented, possibly in attempts of small talk or to make the situation feel less awkward. Sherlock couldn’t quite blame the other teen for feeling uncomfortable- he was taking in a stranger, in multiple ways, that wasn’t speaking much into his home to live there for however long. The kitchen was a bit small, but that was to be expected from the house’s size. There was an off white paint coat on the wall with a window in front of the sink and one on the backdoor. The cabinets were a oak wood with a table and chairs opposite of the sink of the same grain. Mrs Watson was starting the kettle on the stove when she heard the two walk in. “Ah! Just in time, tea’s almost ready. I see you met John, Sherlock,” “Yes, he walked me in.” She smiled at the two boys, genuinely happy for her family’s /new beginning/ to start. “Go on, have a seat. John, could you get me some cups?”

Sherlock sat down at the table as John pulled three mugs out of one of the cabinets and placed them on the counter besides his mother, then sitting down at the table as well across from the brunette. Mrs Watson soon followed, giving the two their cuppa’s before sitting in between the two with her own. “What, does Harry not get any tea today?” John kidded. “What happened today?” The woman chuckled a bit, “Oh nothing, She’s just out with a few friends.”  
/Harry is short for Harriet, a sister. There’s always something/  
There was a small tense silence after that, obviously caused by the presence of someone who was basically a stranger. Sherlock was used to that, of course, so it didn’t quite affect him as much as it would’ve once had. Besides, it gave him a moment to examine the two’s relationship…

/Close, but not as much as it had once been. Bit of a “falling out” in the previous year or so. Trying to repair things subtly and avoid talking too much about the past./

“So Sherlock,” Mrs Watson turned from her son to the quiet brunette. “Did you bring anything with you?” “ “I have a small bag of things besides the front door,” He replied simply. “Alright, you could bring that up to John’s room when you like. We don’t quite have a spare room at the moment, so you two will be sharing until Harry goes off to school. Hope that’s alright?” Sherlock glanced over at John; clearly he had been informed beforehand and didn’t have much of an objection to it. “Yes, that fine. Thank you.” “Of course, sweetheart.” The three talked a bit briefly about things around the house over tea until Mrs Watson suggested that John show Sherlock his, their, room.

“Yeah sure, follow me,” The blonde replied, standing up and placing his and Sherlock’s mug in the sink. He followed John out back to the living room where he picked up his bag and headed up the stairs after the other. The upstairs floor was carpeted, unlike the stairs. There was a small bathroom and three other doors up their. Two lead to bedrooms at opposite ends of the hall. The remaining one was similar to the supposed basement one downstairs. There was an attic then, just not often used. They went through the door at the far end of the hall, John closing the door about halfway once Sherlock was inside.

There was a faded blue paint on the wall along with two full beds. There was still a fair amount of room with the additional bed. Well, they each had space. It was clear that there had been major rearranging in the past day or so, a large rug intent from where the dresser used to be. “Okay,” John stood in between the two beds pushed up against their individual walls. “Closet and this bed,” he pointed to the one on the right. “Are yours. Sheets were washed last night, so that's all clean. And, uh… yeah, that's that.” “I can tell,” Sherlock had muttered to himself as John spoke, setting his duffle bag down besides the bed. Apparently, he hadn't said it quiet enough to keep John from hearing, for when the brunette turned around, there was a puzzled expression on the other's face. “Wait, what did you mean, /you could tell/? Both the beds look the same and you've only been in here for not even a few minutes.”

“It's obvious, really,” Sherlock said with a sort of /duh/ tone. John sat down in his respective bed. “The mattress you're on right now has indents in it caused from your normal sleeping position, which switches from your stomach to left side. Not right though, that hurts from that rugby injury that never truly healed right. As for the closet and dresser situation, the closet is cracked open a bit and there's no shadow of clothes. The hangers themselves, yes, but no clothes. Also, there's a sock poking out of the bottom drawer of the dresser.” Sherlock came to a stop, looking back to John. The blonde’s mouth was opened slightly and he seemed to stare a bit. “That was… brilliant!”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first Johnlock fic, though I've written a few pompts of it before, but I'm trying my best. I'll be writing in third person, as you can clearly see, but still with a Shelock-perspective sort of thing. I have a hard time portraying John, so this just helps me stay in a comfort zone of sorts. Most chapters will be longer than this, or I at least hope they will be. This is just to help start us off! As for updates, how about every other Friday? Whether I'll stick to that or not is an entirely different story. I'll try though.
> 
> Oh, and if you want an age reference...  
> SH- 15  
> JW- 16
> 
> If you have any questions or suggestions, please let me know! I'll try running the chapters through Grammerly before I post, but there may be a few errors here and there. The drawing of the story cover in the link in the notes of the beginning of the chapter is my own, so please do not steal it or use it without my permission. 
> 
> Anyways, see you next time laddies!


End file.
